The Darkest of Spots
by Arlia'Devi
Summary: Germany and Italy deal with the devastation following the end of World War II, of what it means for the future both of their countries, and more importantly, what it means for the future of their relationship. Oneshot. [GerIta Platonic].


Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or any of the characters. Rights go to Hidekazu Himaruya and distribution, publishing and broadcasting associates. I make no money from this.

The Darkest of Spots

By Arlia'Devi

Germany sat on the front step of the great manor that had once been his house. He looked to the wrought-iron gates that lined what had been an extensive garden. The spear-tipped fence bent and broken and his gate swung open off its hinges. The day was partly cloudy, and it seemed the sun paid no heed to Germany's woes, it continued to shine despite the turmoil he felt.

His house. Not so long ago it had been a great manor of luxuries and had accommodated many countries. Now was burnt and smashed and soiled. His literature had been torn, his furniture had been destroyed and his home had crumbled and burnt. The only thing that remained was a charred shell of white brick, a tall fireplace and a few rooms that could possibly be salvaged from the wreckage.

He looked to his garden. Once an immaculately pruned shrubbery, the yard was now a desolate, charred wasteland. His trees were burnt and snapped and his roses were little more than black twigs, twisted and bent. Even the water fountain Italy had given him all those years ago lie smashed in pieces on the pavement – the little cupid's mouth dripped remnants of water while the voluptuous woman holding him has broken into half a dozen pieces.

Germany buried his face in his hands. It had been going so well… He'd never wanted it to happen, not like this anyway.

And now, he had nothing. Just like before.

Had he been a fool? An ambitious fool for doing what he did, for wanting what he wanted? Germany didn't know.

Italy had surrendered to the Allies; his little curly signature had stained the armistice. He'd said nothing, but was afraid – afraid of what the Allies would do to him now after he'd sided with Germany for so long. Japan had surrendered eventually, and with Russia on Germany's doorstep, his people in turmoil and his capital burnt to the ground, Germany folded, ending the Second World War

And now, Germany's house was empty. Once full of siblings and alliances and people he'd called his 'friends', the great manor that had once been Germany was abandoned and demolished. Not even Prussia had visited since his surrender. No one had visited.

There was no beer, no wurst, his dogs had fled and his country was a charred mark on the world map. What was there for him now? Germany felt his throat become tighter. Was this what it felt like to die? Was this how Ancient Rome felt – his grand legacy crumbling into nothing? Had he been waiting for the release of death while being forced to watch his great empire dissolve?

Germany looked at his muddy boots. The laces were frayed and the leather was scuffed, and yet they would have to last. He had no money to repair such things, no allies to call upon in aid, and few soldiers left to defend his land. Perhaps Russia would invade and try to claim Germany as his, like the Ukraine and Belarux. Would that be a viable option - to spend the remainder of his days as a dependent and a member of Mother Russia? Perhaps it was better to die.

Maybe his brother would come by, but Prussia had his own problems at the moment.

"Germany…?"

Germany looked up to the gate of his house to see Italy. He sat up a little bit and pushed his blonde fringe from his eyes, slicking it back.

"Hallo Italy," he replied to the little Italian standing by the gate. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here. Go home."

Italy did an awkward dance, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"I wanted to see if Germany was okay…," he said nervously, looking around the ruins of the home he often stayed in during the axis alliance. "Can I come in?"

"If the Allies find you here, Italy, you'll be in a lot of trouble," Germany warned.

"No…," he said, but it was evident Italy was worried. His eyes flitted around the countryside. "It will be all right. Can I come in, Germany? Please?"

Germany sighed before his shoulder's relaxed and he ushered the Italian in with his gloved hand. "Ja. Just watch where you step."

Italy paced into Germany's home, climbing over a charred branch of what used to be one of his favourite apple trees. The stone steps Germany was sitting on were cold and marked with coal. Italy brushed it a little before sitting down next to his old ally. Germany didn't look at him.

It had been two years since Italy had surrendered to the allies and Germany knew Italy had come out the best in regards to the war. Japan had fought America, and lost a substantial population, as well as a large city. Germany… Germany sighed and rubbed his brows with his hands. Well, Germany didn't want to think about it.

"Italy?" Germany said eventually. The smell of smoke was thick in the air, but it didn't smell just like smoke. Italy tried not to think about what else it smelt like.

"Yes, Germany?"

"Why are you here?" he said. "If the Allies see you with me they won't be happy. And I don't want anything to happen to you because of me."

"Germany is kind," Italy smiled and rested his elbows on his knees, surveying the destruction. "But Germany is my friend. He has been for a long time. Even when the other countries didn't like me, Germany was my friend. Other countries don't really like Germany now," Italy smiled at the German but he grunted and turned away. "But Italy still does."

"I don't need someone's favour," replied the German. "I don't need _friends_."

Italy hummed but did not say anything. His brother Prussia was slowly being dismantled in the North and East, and Germany's boss had turned out to be a really mean guy so Italy didn't say anything. Instead, he sat next to his friend silently. The sun was going down on Germany – it was red and bloody and violent, but the way the colours lit up and danced across the sky, it was still beautiful; like something he could capture on the canvas. It was messy, but still beautiful.

"What happens when we die, Italy?"

Italy looked to his friend. "Huh?"

"Your grandfather was one of the strongest powers in the world at one time, and then he simply vanished – he died," said Germany. It seemed that he too had noticed the beauty of the sunset. "It must have been unbearable. By accounts, The Roman Empire knew it was failing and falling into chaos – knew it was dying, and was futile to stop it. How terrible to have such a drawn-out death."

Italy hummed. "Yeah, Grandpa Rome was a cool guy."

"I was greedy, Italy," said Germany. "And I was angry. I wanted to get back at the world. I wanted revenge against France, but I was foolish. I could not see what was right in front of my eyes until it was too late."

Italy smiled at his friend and touched his shoulder reassuringly. "Ve, Germany, we all make mistakes."

He shook his head and shrugged off Italy's hand. "Nein. Not this large. My country is tainted with the darkest of spots. I know that all I can do is await my death."

"Germany can't die…," Italy pouted, shaking his head. Germany sighed and nodded, resting his chin on his hand and watching the sun shimmer as it fell below the horizon.

"Russia's probably on my doorstep. I have no money. I have no army," he said. "Berlin has been levelled. My government is in chaos. Where to countries go when they die? I do not remember being smaller – I do not remember ever being anything but being German."

Italy smiled gently. "When I was younger, Grandpa Rome taught me to draw and paint and told me all about the lovely ladies he knew throughout the lands. Then I stayed at Holy Roman Empire's house for a while. It was nice, but Austria was mean to me sometimes." He looked to Germany as he studied the sun. Italy looked at his blonde hair, slicked back and dirty from the years of toil. Germany's eyes were normally like the colour of the sky in the daytime, but now they reflected the red that swirled in the sky like a suffocating cloud - like his brother's. "Ve, Germany, I felt like I've know you forever – you know?"

Germany looked to Italy. "I cannot say I feel the same."

Italy shrugged and smiled. "I don't know what it is about you," he laughed a little. "I just feel that way."

"Hmm…"

Italy sighed and looked out the sunset again. He swallowed thickly. Two years ago he'd signed the armistice agreement and surrendered to the allies. Germany had not been surprised, and had said a few harsh words at his abandonment, but Italy had warned him he'd disappoint him; it was in his nature. Just like it was in Germany's nature to fight to the end, to not give up and preserve.

"Was it worth it Germany?" asked Italy suddenly, looking towards the blonde man. "Everything you did - the War. Was it worth it?"

"Ja…," Germany said eventually. "For a long time, I thought it was." His hand went to his mouth and he sighed. The sun had almost disappeared. "I could not see the darkness behind some plans until the every end. I'm not angry at you, Italy – for surrendering. I was for a moment. But I'm not anymore." Italy saw Germany rub his nose and brow with the palm of his hand, slicking it back into his hair and decided not to say anymore.

Italy smiled. "The Allies aren't so bad. They're not _Germany_, but they're not so bad. Ve - they started an organisation to stop us fighting so much. The _United Nations_. I'm sure you can join us, Germany. If you wanted to."

"Ja, maybe one day…," he sighed. "Once everything is cleaned up."

Italy looked around the manor – Germany certainly had a lot to clean up. "Maybe I can come and help you sometimes. You know, clean up. I used to do it a lot when I was little. I'm good at it, Germany."

"Nein," replied the German. "I don't think that is a very good idea, Italy. I told you before, I think you should stay away from me for a while. Worry about your own people, not mine."

"Ve," pouted Italy. "But Germany, you're my best friend!"

Germany went to say something, but it died on his lips, so he just huffed and looked away as Italy got to his feet. Behind Germany, along his front porch was a reed-broom he'd used a few times to sweep outside. He approached the front door and pushed it open, letting the potent burnt smell out of the room.

"It's not so bad in here, Germany!" called Italy as he stood in the foyer. "The kitchen is still all right."

Some of the wallpaper had burnt and it seemed that most of the back rooms – the library, the study and a spare bedroom that Austria sometimes slept in had been gutted out by the fire. There was still the front sitting room with its own fireplace. Italy didn't venture upstairs. The end of the staircase had fallen into the small storage room and the wood was singed.

"Nein," muttered Germany. Italy jumped a little. He hadn't heard the German enter. "Everything will need to be replaced." He touched the top of a favourite armchair and noted the dust that came off on his black gloves.

"You don't have a boss anymore, do you Germany?" asked Italy as he kicked the staircase gently and another piece of burnt out wood fell to the floor. He jumped a little and backed away.

"Not anymore."

Italy sighed and went back out to the porch and folded his arms over his chest. The sun had gone down. It was dark.

"Ve, the air smells weird around here now, Germany," said the Italian uneasily.

"I know."

"How long is it going to last?"

The German shrugged his shoulders and tried to respond, but the words failed him for a moment. Taking a shaking breath, he put his hand on Italy's shoulder and squeezed it.

"I don't know, Italy," he said eventually. "Maybe forever."

* * *

So I jumped on the Germany is actually HRE theory bandwagon and wrote this oneshot about Germany's feelings towards the war & its aftermath. It's probably the only one-shot I've written that isn't related to sex, and half because I really loved exploring the remorse and guilt Germany felt after WWII in contrast to it's beliefs and desires pre-WWII and half because I plan to write a PWP for this couple, anyway and the theme didn't really fit a sex scene at the end.

Anyway, I'd love it if you could drop a quick message my way before you leave. Ve~!

~ **Arlia'Devi**


End file.
